


Bits and Pieces

by speccygeekgrrl



Category: Mystery Science Theater 3000, The Venture Bros
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Angst, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Gen, Glasses, Hurt/Comfort, Just Add Kittens, Love Letters, M/M, Monsters, Philosophy, Poker, Snowball Fight, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-10-29 07:40:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 8,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10849491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/speccygeekgrrl/pseuds/speccygeekgrrl
Summary: Ficlets, snippets, very short stories. Tags to be added with new chapters. Probably mostly going to be shameless shipper fluff mixed with gen. (A couple of explicit chapters, but most of it is sweet and innocent, I swear!)





	1. the nightmare-fueled world of Kinga the cuddle monster (Kinga/Max)

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 1: the nightmare-fueled world of Kinga the cuddle monster  
> Chapter 2: Genre challenge: angst  
> Chapter 3: Genre challenge: AU (coffee shop)  
> Chapter 4: Genre challenge: crack  
> Chapter 5: Genre challenge: crossover (crossed with Venture Bros.)  
> Chapter 6: Genre challenge: hurt/comfort  
> Chapter 7: Genre challenge: smut (explicit)  
> Chapter 8: Genre challenge: fluff  
> Chapter 9: Prompt: aftercare (explicit)  
> Chapter 10: Prompt: snowstorm  
> Chapter 11: Soulmate AU: chromatic reveal  
> Chapter 12: Gratuitous glasses porn (Clayton/Frank)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shippy cuddle fluff. Brush your teeth after you read it.
> 
> edit 6/9/17 to add: This actually fits seamlessly after Big Bada Boom in the "even the mistakes aren't really mistakes at all" series even though it was written ~7 weeks before that so if you'd like to consider it part 6.5 of the series I won't dissuade you!

Max is a side sleeper. Kinga usually sleeps on her stomach, but on the increasingly frequent nights they share a bed she finds herself wrapped around him from behind, one arm curled around the softest part of his stomach. She presses her nose into the nape of his neck and cuddles him like the biggest, coziest teddy bear she's ever owned. The one night she mumbles something to that effect he lets out a short, sleepy laugh.

"I guess you kind of do own me," he agrees softly, lacing his fingers through hers where her hand rests on his belly. "But you're mine too, right?" She doesn't say anything, just squeezes him and kisses the back of his neck and falls asleep quickly.

He's not satisfied by that. Max is very serious about not taking silence as consent, and he's equally serious about the imbalance in feelings in their relationship. He knows he loves her, he's always loved her, and he knows that she didn't care until recently and she still doesn't care enough to put a name to her feelings for him. He asks but doesn't push, half-scared that if he demands an answer she'll just push him away.

Kinga falls asleep easily when they sleep together. He doesn't know that that's not the case when they sleep apart. All he knows is that he stays awake for a very long time after she's out, his usual trouble sleeping exacerbated by his mind hyper-processing the sensation of her spooning him. He's okay with it, honestly. He doesn't mind not sleeping when being held by her is literally a dream come true. 

The nights are great, but the mornings... the mornings are the best. She always rouses first, obviously, and he usually starts waking up when she rearranges herself against his side. As standoffish as she could still be during the day, Kinga first thing in the morning is a cuddle monster, and by the time Max opens his eyes she's got her head on his shoulder and a leg curled over his legs. He gets an arm around her, and she settles in for some serious snuggling.

"Morning," he murmurs, and she hums lazily and squeezes him. "You know, I could get used to waking up like this."

"Yeah?" She lifts her head to meet his eyes and it's so unfair that she always looks this sweet and loving when she's not quite awake but she's so mean when she's alert. "I might be able to too. I sleep so well when you're here."

"Oh, I'm good for you," he says, mostly serious, but she laughs. "I'm better for you than you are for me."

"Mm, that's true. But I'm your problem to deal with."

That isn't quite her saying she's his, but... close enough. He kisses the top of her head when she nuzzles back into his shoulder. Ten minutes later, he dozes off; she doesn't let go of him for another half an hour after that.


	2. genre challenge: angst (gen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinga goes snooping and finds something she wasn't meant to see.

"What the hell is this?" Kinga demanded, waving a piece of stationery in front of Max's face. Max went pale. 

"You weren't supposed to-- that's not-- that's private," he stammered.

"Is it private? Cause it has my name on it," she growled. "It looks like it's meant for me. But that can't be right. You're not this suicidal."

"I'm not suicidal at all," he said weakly, and she arched a brow at him.

"Are you sure? This isn't a love letter, Max. This is a death wish."

"You weren't supposed to see that."

"No? Then why's it on such quality paper? And your handwriting is so nice here. Every word is so easy to read. Usually your writing is a mess. You really wanted me to be able to understand what you wrote here, huh?" 

"Kinga, please..." He looked like he wanted to walk out of an airlock with no helmet. She was half ready to throw him out of one herself. "Just... forget you found that, please."

"You want me to forget all these pretty words? Just... pretend I never read this heartfelt, moving letter?" Every word dripped with venom. He nodded slightly, afraid to move too much, and she smiled at him like a drawer full of sharp, shiny knives. "Okay, Max. You made a mistake. Everyone's allowed to make mistakes." He swallowed, waiting for the ax to fall. She held up the letter and scanned through it again, scorn clear on her face. "I don't know what kind of sorry rom-com marathon you went through to produce this pathetic sap, but... here. Let's forget about it." 

She tore the letter in half, then quarters, then kept shredding it until it was just a handful of confetti that she threw in his face. "But if I ever see something like this again, that's the last mistake you'll ever make. Now clean this garbage up." She turned on her heel and walked out. He stood there for a second with his head down, wondering if it would be easier on himself to just drop dead right there, then sighed and knelt to sweep the scraps into his hand.

She had never been meant to see that. He had put it in a place where she couldn't have found it. 

Well, at least she only came after him for the contents of the letter and not the contents of the diary he kept in the same place. It could have been worse. She definitely would have outright murdered him if she'd read that.


	3. genre challenge: AU (Kinga/Max)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every fandom needs a coffee shop AU! Right? Right!

Sometimes Max wondered what it was like to work at a normal Starbucks. He worked at the closest one to Gizmonic Institute, and scientists were _weird_. Mostly nice, some arrogant, many with very specific drink orders... and then there was _her_.

Every day she came in at 3 pm, red hair falling out of its bun, lab coat stained or burned or otherwise damaged, and rattled off her Frappucino order faster than he could mark the cup. She sneered when he asked her to repeat herself the first few times, but after a couple of weeks he'd memorized her modifications: Matcha base, four pumps peach syrup, six pumps mango syrup, four pumps raspberry syrup, blended for exactly thirty seconds, a layer of mocha sauce halfway through the cup, and cinnamon sugar and mocha chips on top of the whipped cream. 

Every day he'd hold up the cup and call, "Kinga," and she'd take it and taste it and roll her eyes at him.

"Wrong again," she'd always say. The first couple of weeks she left frowning. After that, when he got better at making it, she'd still heckle him but he'd tease her back and usually she'd leave smiling.

Then Starbucks changed the formula for their raspberry syrup. The first Frappucino her handed her after the change got handed right back to him.

"It's wrong. You left out the raspberry. Make it again."

"No, I didn't. The raspberry syrup had the red dye removed." Usually her drink was a sort of muddy pink. This one was green. "It'll taste the same, I promise."

"I don't care what you promise, it looks wrong."

"Look, just... take the drink, please." Max kept holding it out until she heaved a sigh and took it. "It'll be right tomorrow, don't worry." She scowled at him and walked out, and he smiled slightly as the door closed behind her.

The next day, she came in, regular as clockwork. "Matcha Frappucino--" Max held up a finger and she paused. He pulled a bright pink Frappucino out of the fridge, added the whipped cream and toppings, and handed it to her with a flourish.

"Taste it," he urged when she looked at it suspiciously. She sipped it and her eyes widened.

"It's... it's right. You fixed it." She gave him a harder look. "You fixed it for me, why?"

"Because that's the way you like it," he said brightly. "And I like giving you what you want." Her eyes narrowed, and he smiled. It wasn't a crime to flirt a little. "See you tomorrow, Kinga."

"Yeah. See you." She left looking a bit perturbed. Max patted his pocket where he'd hidden a bottle of red food dye. He had to find a place to keep it where no one else would see it. Technically, he could get in trouble for adding unapproved substances to drinks... but he was ready to risk it if it meant he could catch the edge of her pleased smile on her way out of the cafe every day.


	4. genre challenge: crack (gen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> okay but honestly crack in MST3K is impossible because the entire show is crack so... if this isn't crack enough I apologize.

"It got out again," Max said urgently. "It got our scent last time. Kinga, what do we do?" Kinga's eyes widened.

"Oh no. Oh, no..." She grabbed the nearest Skeleton Crew. "Kill it! I don't care how many people it takes, kill it and throw it out an airlock. And let me know when you've done it." She let go of the crew and grabbed Max instead. "We have to get out of here. Come on." He let her drag him over to the chute that connected Moon 13 with the Satellite of Love and watched as she sent herself up.

Well. Desperate times called for desperate measures. And being hunted by a genetically modified guard dog with three heads was a pretty desperate time. He went up after her and found himself standing on the bridge next to her. Jonah and the bots calmly looked up from their poker game and decided to ignore the Mads. 

"All in," Gypsy said, pushing a pile of RAM chips to the center of the table.

"Oh, a bold move," Jonah said. "I'm gonna fold." 

"Heck with that," Tom said, adding his pile to the kitty. "I'm feeling lucky."

"Not as lucky as I am," Crow said, matching the bet. "Let's see 'em, suckers."

Gypsy had a royal flush. Tom had a full house. Crow had five aces, and started scooping the RAM chips toward himself before Jonah put his hand down in his way. 

"Crow... what have I told you about cheating?"

"It's a valid way to get what you want?" the gold bot said hopefully. Jonah sighed.

"I mean, it is," Kinga piped up, and Jonah sighed again.

"I'm not going to ask why you're here. I was going to ask if you wanted to be dealt in, but if that's your stance on cheating..."

"I don't cheat," Max said. "Can I play? Please?" 

"Take my place," Gypsy said. "I've got things to take care of anyways. Could you just help me with those chips?" Max swept all the chips into Gypsy's mouth, and she left, humming cheerfully. 

"The game is five card draw," Jonah said, collecting the cards and shuffling them. "Uh... Gypsy just took everything we were betting with..." Kinga folded her arms and sulked as everyone on the bridge ignored her to find something to bet with.


	5. genre challenge: crossover (gen, with Venture Bros)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinga doesn't have a ton of experience with other villains. When the Guild of Calamitous Intent re-occupies Meteor Majeure, she can't help snooping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just have this mental image of Sheila mentoring baby villainesses and being so proud of her girls when they graduate to arching on their own and it's killing me. Also... Kinga could use a female role model, right? Not like Pearl is much of one for her.

Kinga was peripherally aware of the Guild of Calamitous Intent, but she didn't feel the need to ally herself with them. That wasn't her style of villainy. She didn't want a nemesis, she just wanted to rule the world, and outfits like that tended to encourage ambitious villains to limit their scope to one assigned protagonist. At least, that was what her father had said scornfully when they'd sent him an invitation packet. Sure, they had resources, and sure, it would be nice to have someone backing her up in an emergency, but Kinga didn't _need_ them. She _needed_ to be in control of her destiny. That was enough for her.

She'd been on Moon 13 for a couple of years when the old Meteor Majeure station started broadcasting again, which was unexpected and kind of interesting. It had been a focal point of the Guild's power back when her grandmother had just been cutting her teeth on mad science, but it had been dead for decades. Now, though, transmissions were going out, and she was determined to intercept as many as she could out of sheer curiosity.

As soon as Kinga saw the villainess with the husky voice on the transmissions, she developed an instant and severe girl crush. What style! What grace! What a weird voice to come out of such a beautiful woman, but hey, everyone was a little weird. The woman never identified herself as anything except the Chairwoman of the Guild. Kinga wanted to know more. 

Fifteen minutes after she started hacking into Meteor Majeure's ancient computer systems, her viewscreen came to life. It was her girl crush... and she looked pissed.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" the woman fumed. "Hacking into the Guild, I ought to blow you out of the sky..."

"Oh... hi! Hello! Madam... hi. I'm, um, I'm Kinga Forrester. This is my moon base." The woman cast her gaze around, then smirked slightly. Kinga felt her heart rate kick up a notch. "You're the Chairwoman of the Guild of Calamitous Intent."

"I am," the woman agreed, but didn't identify herself further. "Forrester, hm? I don't recall any Forresters in the history of the Guild. Who are you? Are you an antagonist?"

"Antagonist? No, ma'am. I'm a mad scientist, my whole family line are mad scientists. Can I just say that it's an honor to speak with you?"

"Don't trip over yourself," the chairwoman said, that smirk reappearing. "What business do you have with the Guild, then? I don't take kindly to attempted hacking."

"I'm just-- oh, jeez. I wanted to know what was going on, we're a little cut off from information here on the dark side of the moon and you're the most interesting thing I've seen in a while."

"You're out of the loop, sweetie. Didn't you see what happened with Gargantua-2?"

"Garwhataca? Um, no..."

"The giant fucking space station the only competent Venture built? No? Well, it doesn't matter, it's not there any more. What are you doing on the moon?"

"Oh, you know... mad science stuff."

"Don't patronize me, girl." Kinga shivered slightly at the command in the woman's throaty voice. 

"Um, genetic engineering, developing a new form of media transmission, plans for world domination..." She shrugged. The woman arched a brow.

"Ambitious, aren't you? What sort of genetic engineering? It's a special interest of mine." 

"Oh! Really? I'd love to tell you all about it. It'd be nice to discuss it with someone who understands it all. Would you... maybe want to come here and take a look at what I've been working on? I've got atomic supermen manning my base and a whole bunch of dinosaurs in my basement..."

"Dinosaurs, really?" That piqued the woman's interest. "I wouldn't mind seeing some dinosaurs."

"I'd love to show them to you! You can even taste them. I've developed my own barbecue sauce to complement the prehistoric flavor and everything. Would you like to come for dinner?" She couldn't keep the blatant hope off her face. Blue eyes studied her for a moment, and then the woman pushed her hair back from her face in a surprisingly casual move.

"You know what? That sounds lovely. When would you like me to show up?"

"When's good for you? My schedule is pretty open... I could let them know to fire up the grill right now, if you're hungry." 

"According to coordinates, it'll take about an hour for me to get to you... call it two hours? I'll bring a Guild orientation packet. You seem like a promising young antagonist. Maybe we can work something out."

"Sure! Sounds great! Um... what should I call you?" Pretty lips turned up at the corners and Kinga tried not to swoon.

"You can call me Sheila. I'll see you soon, Kinga." She cut the transmission and Kinga let out an excited squeal. Wow. She was going to meet a real, important, super classy supervillainess. Maybe Sheila would have some pointers for her. Kinga could always improve her air of menace, and it would be nice to have a mentor, and...

She was humming when she passed Max in the hallway. He stopped and looked after her, bemused, then shrugged and went on his way. Whatever got her into a good mood was okay by him.


	6. genre challenge: hurt/comfort (Kinga/Max)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinga twists her ankle. Somehow that turns into the best day Max has ever had.

"This is bullshit," Kinga fumed, arms folded and wincing in pain. "Such bullshit. Who even left all those things lying around?"

"You did," Max said gently, rolling her sock off her foot and pushing up the hem of her pants leg. "Oh, yeah, you messed that up pretty good."

"I don't think it's broken," she said, trying to wiggle her foot. She stopped with a yelp of pain. "I really hope it isn't broken..."

"Well, stop moving it." His hands felt cool against her swollen ankle as he carefully prodded it. "You've hurt this ankle before."

"Yeah, a couple times. It doesn't feel as bad as it did when I broke it."

"I think you just turned it pretty badly." They didn't have an infirmary, just an oversized first aid kit. Neither of them knew what they'd do if she actually broke her ankle, but if it was just twisted they could deal with that. Max bustled around a bit, getting a cold pack to hold to her injured joint, digging the wrap bandage out of the kit, rummaging around for a painkiller. "...what's this?" he asked, holding up a pill bottle and shaking it. "Pearl Forrester?"

"Grandma's Vicodin, give me that!"

"You stole her pills?" Kinga waved a hand dismissively.

"She gets more every month. Bet she didn't even notice they were gone. Seriously, give me one." With a shrug, Max shook one out into his palm and she swallowed it dry when he handed it to her. He replaced the bottle in the first aid kit. The thought of Kinga going around loopy on Vicodin made him very, very concerned.

"We don't have any crutches," he said. "And much as I'd love to sweep you off your feet in a grand gesture, I'm pretty sure that would leave us both injured. So... are you okay with hobbling around with my help?"

"It's not the end of the world," she said. "I want to go to my room, I should get this ankle elevated." She got up with his help and leaned heavily against him with her arm around his shoulders. "You're like the perfect height for this," she said a little dreamily. _Well, that works fast,_ he thought, and wrapped an arm around her waist to steady her. 

A walk that usually took five minutes took closer to fifteen with him supporting her, and by the time he set her down on her bed he could barely keep his smile hidden. Apparently opiates made Kinga cuddly. Who knew? "Can I get you anything else?" he asked as he fluffed the pillow to put under her ankle.

"You're not leaving me alone, are you?" 

"Don't you want me to?"

"No... not really. You can stay." She wiggled over on the bed to make space for him to sit, which was unprecedented. Usually she didn't even want him in her room. He stood by the bed uncertainly until she patted the space next to her imperiously. "Well?"

"Impatient, aren't you?" He kicked his shoes off and sat next to her, watching her curiously. "Are you sure you don't want anything else?"

"I want this damn coat off, I'm overheating," she said, and Max closed his eyes for a second wondering if he was extremely fortunate or just being set up for another disappointment. He helped her get the coat off and blinked at the t-shirt she was wearing-- one he'd given her a few years before that said "stand back! I'm going to try SCIENCE!" "That's better," she sighed, letting her head fall back against the headboard and huffing in annoyance when her hair sticks clattered on it. She yanked them out and tossed them aside, shaking her head to loose her hair.

"You look... comfy," he said carefully. She was so stringent about being put-together at all times that seeing her undone like this was almost unsettling. "What do you want to do now?"

"I dunno... you want to binge watch something?" He handed her the remote to her TV and tried not to startle when she cuddled up to his side as she scrolled through Netflix. Very hesitantly, he put his arm around her shoulders, and she glanced up at him with a smile before focusing on the TV. "Oh, let's watch Stranger Things. That's a perfect binge show."

"Sounds good," he said, knowing that he'd barely register what they were watching as long as they were this close. All he could smell was her shampoo. He nuzzled the top of her head and breathed her in. If he was being conscripted as her pillow for the next eight hours, that was honestly the best thing that had happened to him since they came up to the moon, and he was going to enjoy it.


	7. genre challenge: smut (Kinga/Max, explicit)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For once in his life, Max gets to call the shots. Luckily for Kinga, he's way more benevolent than she is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand here's the chapter that changes the whole rating of the story listing. ...I made it to chapter seven without porn? Wow. That's weird for me.

"Do that again," Kinga said urgently. 

"What, this?" Max moved his fingers slightly and she whimpered. "Or that?" He moved them a different way. She grabbed his wrist and dug her nails into it. "Or not that! Apparently not that."

"All of it," she said. "Do all of it. Oh my god, how are you even good at this?" 

"I'm just paying attention to how you react. It's not rocket science." He looked like he wanted to laugh, dark eyes shining with amusement, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to kiss him or hit him. "Plus, you know, I've kind of spent some time thinking about this."

"Pervert," she said weakly, and he did laugh at that, glancing down at where his hand moved on her and back up at her flushed face. 

"You're benefiting from my overactive fantasy life," he chirped, "so maybe a little less with the name calling?" She gave him a sulky look. "Oh, I'm sorry, does it take the fun out of it if you can't verbally abuse me?" She started to say something snarky, but he took his hand off her, grinning. "I can stop..." 

"Don't you dare." He looked positively smug when he lifted his hand and sucked the taste of her off his fingers, and she shivered. "God, Max, please don't tease me."

"That is _so_ rich coming from you." He was nicer than she was, though, and he was having too much fun watching her trying and failing to hide how much he pleased her. "Also ambiguous," he added, fingertips tracing her slick folds. "Because it's not really teasing as long as it gets somewhere, right? Even if it takes a while to get there." He pressed just the tip of one finger inside her and her lashes fluttered. "I'm not in a hurry, are you in a hurry?" 

"I could be," she said, and he very slowly slid his finger deeper. 

"Oh, really? Do you have some place to be?" 

"Nnnnnno..." Watching her struggle to keep her composure was both hilarious and insanely arousing. She bit her lip, but that didn't stifle the keening sound she made when he curled his finger.

"Maybe something to do? Something more important than this?" 

"Nothing is more important than this," she gasped, and he grinned like a madman and leaned in to kiss her.

" _Very_ good. You should see yourself right now, you look absolutely amazing." Admittedly, he was biased, but even his best dreams had never approached the truth. He'd always imagined her as perfect, but here and now she was flushed from her hairline all the way down the slopes of her breasts, her hair was starting to tangle from the way she tossed her head every time she couldn't help making a sound, her mouth looked almost bruised from how much she'd bitten her own lip, and... she was a mess, a beautiful mess, and he was the one who put her into this state. He didn't think he'd ever felt this powerful before in his life. He barely had to move to get her to make the most astonishing sounds.

"Max..." She caught him with a hand at the back of his neck. He flinched at the touch of her nails, but she didn't dig them in like he expected her to. "More," she said, and her half-lidded eyes went wide as he pressed a second finger in. He couldn't help himself, he had to kiss her again, and when he tried to pull back she did use her nails, so he just let her keep him there, half over her, tasting every moan and sigh he drew out of her with one gentle hand. He moved his thumb almost by accident, but the way she cried out let him know he'd done something right, and it didn't take a whole lot more focused attention before she yelped and clutched him closer, nails actually drawing blood in the spasm that shook her when she came. 

"Did you just--" She pushed at his hand, too sensitive to stand it any more, and he pulled it away and sat back slightly, a small smile quickly spreading into a grin. "Still think I'm a pervert?"

"Yes," she mumbled stubbornly, "but I never said it was a bad thing."


	8. genre challenge: fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every fandom needs kitten fic, right? Just... go along with me on this one.

"What is this?" Kinga asked, staring down at the creature currently attacking her shoe. Max stooped to scoop it up and present it to her.

"It's a kitten."

"Are you sure? It looks like a dust bunny." True, the kitten was dust-grey and its fur was very long and soft, but Max thought that was a little rude. "Why do you have a kitten?"

"I don't have a kitten. I have four kittens. The guy who runs the shop I play Magic at, his cat had a litter and he didn't have the time to socialize them so I told him I'd foster them until he could find homes for them." Max held the kitten up and kissed the top of its fuzzy head. "This one is Jeremy."

"Jeremy? Seriously? That's a lame name for a cat."

"If you want to name one, you can adopt one," he said cheerfully, and he waved her into his apartment. "Watch your step. Josephine likes to get underfoot." Kinga rolled her eyes but looked where she was going when she walked to the couch. A tiny calico paw swatted at her from under the couch when she sat down, and she sat cross-legged to get her feet out of kitten attack range. "Josie... behave."

"This is ridiculous," Kinga said. "You don't have time for kittens."

"I have plenty of time for kittens," he corrected her. "And I think you need some kitten time too. You're way too wound up. Here, snuggle this." He pressed Jeremy into Kinga's hands and went into his bedroom to round up the other kittens. Kinga put the cat in her lap and stared down at it doubtfully. 

"I'm not a cat person." Jeremy didn't seem to care. Kinga's lap was soft and she was warm and that covered all his criteria for accepting a human. She petted the kitten tentatively. "Oh jeez, he's so soft. Are they all this soft?"

"No, he's the softest one." Max came back out with his arms full of kittens, one ginger one and one black one. "Somehow he came out longhaired and the others are all shorthairs. But they're still pretty soft too." He set the other cats on Kinga's lap and sat down next to her, picking up a cat toy and using the feather on a string to fish the calico kitten out from under the couch. "Listen to them purr, it's so relaxing. I swear you'll feel better." 

"Sounds fake, but okay..." The ginger one started climbing up her sweatshirt, tiny claws pricking her through layers of cloth, and Kinga caught it and held it up in front of her face, getting a mew of protest in return. "What's this one called?"

"Joy. She's... not joyful. She reminds me of you, actually."

"Oh, really?" Kinga shot him a dangerous look, and he shrugged, half-smiling.

"She's aggressive and doesn't accept affection readily." Kinga thought about that for a second, then rolled her eyes and pushed the ginger kitten back at him.

"You're good at dealing with that. Take her back." Max caught the kitten in both hands and held her up to his shoulder, and she perched there and started to knead with her claws out. He winced but didn't dissuade her. Abuse from a kitten was nothing compared to the shit Kinga put him through. The remaining two cats on Kinga's lap cuddled together and she pet them cautiously, almost smiling when they started to purr. "Okay, they're... kind of cute."

"They're absolutely adorable," Max said. " _You're_ kind of cute. And kind of scary."

"As long as you think I'm more scary than cute, I'll allow it," she said, and she looked at Joy digging her claws into Max's shoulder. "Although cats are really popular on the internet... maybe there's something here I can use in my plans. Some lesson to be learned from the cuteness of kittens."

"I guess you're just going to have to come over and play with them until you learn the lesson," Max said cheerfully. Kinga didn't respond, staring at the puddle of fur in her lap with a furrow in her brow. Okay, whatever. Kinga was going off on one of her weird internal tangents. Max went back to playing with Josie and the feather toy, shooting glances over at Kinga while she puzzled through how to adapt cuteness for evil purposes.


	9. shiver (Kinga/Max, explicit)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes the aftermath is just as good as how you get there in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written for the prompt "aftercare". I still have no shame. And I love love love writing shippy sappy fluffy smut stuff. 
> 
> That said, if anyone has prompt ideas... lay them on me! Writing snippets gives me life.

Kinga really, really enjoyed breaking Max into a shivering pile of limbs. The harder she made him come, the more he shivered afterwards. It was her favorite way of judging how much he enjoyed what they did together. Her personal best to date was three minutes and eleven seconds, that time with the handcuffs and the Wartenburg wheel. 

Tonight, she kissed his shoulder as she drew away, and he let out a weak whimper and buried his head in his arms, shaking almost violently. It took her a couple of minutes to get out of the harness and drop the toy over the side of the bed, and he didn't stop shaking that whole time. "Hey... are you okay?" she asked, almost concerned. He nodded but didn't lift his head or say anything. She curled up against his side, one hand stroking up and down his sweat-slicked back. "You seemed to enjoy yourself..." He let out a breathless laugh and nodded again, and she stifled her smile into his shoulder with another kiss. The shaking subsided into just a slight tremble, and she kept petting him, murmuring meaningless endearments into his skin, still mentally tracking the seconds.

He sighed deeply and went still after four minutes and fifty-seven seconds. "Jesus, Kinga," he said, sounding absolutely wrecked as he turned his head to look at her. "How... how long have you been planning _that_?"

"Well, I brought the stuff up to the moon with us when we got here," she said cheerfully, and he let out a little moan and dropped his head again. "But I didn't think you'd agree to it so easily when I brought it up."

"Oh, please, like I can ever say no to you for long." She moved her hand up the back of his neck and scratched her nails against his scalp, and he melted a little more thoroughly against the bed. "Mm... I trust you," he added dreamily, and she couldn't help smirking at that.

"That's your mistake," she said sweetly, and he snorted, stirring just enough to get an arm around her and pull her closer. "You'll regret it eventually."

"I don't know, if I didn't flinch from that I'm not sure how much worse you have up your sleeve."

"Oh, Max. Max, Max, Max. You have no idea." The threat in her voice sent an aftershock shudder through his body.

"I look forward to getting one," he said breathlessly, turning to steal a kiss from her.


	10. prompt: snowstorm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max's favorite weather is also Kinga's favorite weather... but for entirely different reasons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if people want my dumb little five-minute ficlets but I think it's cute so here ya go.

"...and that's why it has to be acidic," Kinga said as they got out of the elevator, walking out of Gizmonic Institute after a very successful day of mad science. Max nodded like he understood and held the door open for her, running into her a second later when she stopped in the doorway. "Oh, look!" All he could see was a faceful of her hair until she stepped forward and the winter wonderland that was the parking lot came into view. 

"Oh, wow." Snow was Max's absolute favorite weather, and it was coming down heavily, a few inches already on the ground and showing no sign of slowing. "It's beautiful." 

"I think we might be stuck here," Kinga said, glancing over at him. "Unless someone comes around to plow the road out of here."

"Well, it's not the worst thing that's ever happened," Max said reasonably. "Wouldn't be the first all-nighter we've pulled here. Or the first time we've slept in the lab." He gazed around, enjoying how pretty the view was from the vantage of Gizmonic's mountaintop campus, completely missing Kinga sneaking closer to shove a handful of snow down the back of his neck. He shrieked and clawed his back with gloved hands. "Oh god... oh fuck that's cold... Kinga, _why_?"

"Because your reaction is priceless every time I do that," she crowed, dancing away when he stooped to scoop up a snowball. "And your aim has always been for shit," she added, immediately getting pegged in the face with the snowball and sputtering loudly. "What the hell?"

"My aim's improved," he said dryly, and took off running into the parking lot when she growled and bent to retaliate.


	11. Quite the Spectacle(s) (Clayton/Frank)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's very, very rare for Frank to see Clay without his glasses. And the one situation he was sure Clay would take them off, he was completely wrong about-- not that he's upset to be proven wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gratuitous glasses porn. Not even sorry. Come on, look at my username, of COURSE I'm going to write gratuitous glasses porn. And I just got my own pair of lime green glasses so this was inevitable. *pushes glasses up nose*

It happened, on average, once every forty-five to sixty seconds, more often if he was looking down. Clay's glasses would slip down his nose, and he would push them back up absentmindedly, not even realizing he was doing it. Frank wondered why he still noticed, given how often it happened, but every time it happened he focused on Clay's hand, long fingers poking at the bridge of his glasses and dropping away in half a second. 

Okay, honestly, he knew why he noticed. He was maybe, slightly, just a tiny bit obsessed with Clay's hands. They were elegant despite their bitten nails and the tiny scars from a whole career's worth of lab accidents and chemical spills that marked them. Frank actually liked them more for those flaws because they spoke so succinctly of the man they belonged to: neurotic and worried, not particularly careful, long and thin and a little bit twitchy, capable of both unspeakable cruelty and unexpected tenderness, sometimes one right after the other.

The glasses, too, were so emblematic of their owner that they almost stood in shorthand for him. They'd gotten lost once, somehow, and Clay had needed to pull an older pair from a drawer, thick black frames that looked starkly wrong on his face. He'd spent the entire day wearing them squinting slightly from the out-of-date prescription, getting more and more snappish as a headache set in, and he went to bed early to keep the headache from getting any worse. Frank was up until 3 am scouring Deep 13 for the green-framed glasses, and the look of surprise on Clay's face as he presented them in the morning was well worth the sleep sacrificed. He'd also taken the time to clean the lenses with glass cleaner and a soft cloth, not sure how the man ever saw through the layer of fingerprints and smudges that constantly marred the glass.

The only time Frank saw Clay without his glasses was very late at night, leaving his room after he'd turned in for the night to get a glass of water or go to the bathroom, and he always looked so vulnerable without them, sleepy and squinting and even more tousle-headed than usual. Every time it happened, Frank couldn't help himself from stealing a kiss, and every time, Clay let him get away with it. Sometimes he even seemed pleased by it. When he was fully awake and alert, though, the glasses were always in place regardless of what he was doing.

Frank had thought, when he let himself think of it, that surely Clay would take the glasses off if he was being intimate with someone. He was surprised to discover that wasn't the case-- surprised that he was allowed to discover it in the first place, that he could get away with more than single stolen kisses in the middle of the night, but more surprised at how ridiculously hot it was to have Clay leaning over him wearing nothing but those glasses slipping down his nose. 

The glasses were three-quarters of the way down his nose and both his hands were thoroughly occupied with Frank's body when Frank reached up and delicately pushed them up with one finger. Clay paused, surprised and smiling, and leaned down to kiss Frank until they'd slipped down again. Frank pushed them back up another thirty-nine times before Clay was done touching him. 

That night, Frank stole the glasses from Clay's bedside table and polished them crystal clear before replacing them. It only seemed fair, since he was the reason they were so thoroughly smudged. He was looking forward to getting them smudged again.


	12. The Great Array of Monsters All Over the Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where did the bots get all these monsters? Jonah only made a handful!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was taking fic requests on Tumblr: you provide a title, I'll write at least 300 words of fic.

“Guys, this is NOT what I meant,” Jonah said, using his foot to sweep away a couple of monster figures so he could take a step, repeating the process to make slow progress down the hall. “And you know it.”

“How were we supposed to know it?” Crow asked, setting down another row of monsters at the opposite end of the hall. “You humans are so ambiguous. How do you expect us to interpret ‘you can do what you want with them’? This is what I want to do with them.”

“Where did you even get all of these? I made less than fifty of them! There’s got to be hundreds here!”

“Six hundred forty si– forty seven– six hundred fifty two,” Tom said as Crow finished placing his armful of monsters. “Come on, Jonah, you’re stifling our creativity.”

“You’re stifling my ability to make it to the bathroom! Look, just because one of you can hover and one of you can’t feel anything he steps on doesn’t mean you can line an entire hallway with monster figurines. I still have to walk here.”

“Ugh, ambiguous and so needy.  _Humans,”_ Crow sighed, rounded the corner… and came back with his arms full of more monsters that he started lining up behind the last ones he placed. Jonah stopped in the middle of the hallway, surrounded by monsters for several feet in either direction, took off his glasses, and pinched the bridge of his nose. Then he put them back on.

“Yeah, well, humans are the worst monsters on the planet,” he said, brought up his hands like t-rex claws, roared, and proceeded to smash through the battalions of monsters. Crow made a sound of dismay… and then started cheering, because this was the most interesting thing Jonah had done since he got to the SOL.


	13. Our Love is God (Kinga/Max)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinga doesn't know what Max believes in. He has no qualms about telling her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Tumblr fic requests by title. This goes along with [even the mistakes aren't really mistakes at all](http://archiveofourown.org/series/712995).

“What do you believe in?”

“Are you getting all philosophical on me?” When Max turned to look at her, Kinga’s eyes were steady on him, more serious than he’d seen her look in a while. “What do you mean, what do I believe in?”

“I don’t know… about the universe? We were raised together but I don’t know what you think is behind everything. God or karma or mystical vibrations or pure science or–”

“Oh, that,” Max said. “God can’t exist. Or God is malevolent and doesn’t deserve my attention. Either way, it doesn’t matter. We’re on a path toward annihilation and after consciousness as we know it is gone something else will rise up to take its place.” She blinked at him a couple of times, mouth falling open. “…what?”

“That’s bleak,” Kinga said. “And really pessimistic, coming from you.”

“I put my faith in something I know exists,” he said with a shrug. “What do people really want out of God anyways? Purpose, personal attention, good luck, miracles… happiness. Right?”

“I guess,” she said.

“I get all of that from you.” She blinked again, and he smiled. “I believe in us. I believe in what we can do together. I don’t need God. I’d rather put my faith in our love instead.” Shaking her head, she leaned in to kiss him, biting his lip until he whimpered. “Why… what do you believe in?”

“I used to believe in karma,” she said, and his brows arched.

“Dangerous belief system for a supervillain.”

“No kidding. Anyways… Karma can’t be real. Because I don’t deserve you, but here we are.”

“I thought you believed in destiny.”

“They’re not mutually exclusive,” she said, nose scrunching, and he laughed. 

“Do you still believe in it, though?”

“Of course I do,” she said, reaching for his hand and lacing their fingers together. “It’s our destiny, after all. It’s driving us into the future we’re shaping.”

“So we both believe in us,” he said, smiling. “Good. That’s all we need to make this work.”


	14. I am damaged, far too damaged, but you're not beyond repair (Jonah/Max)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonah has an idea to force Kinga's hand, but he wants Max safely out of the way when he does it. (werewoof AU, combining [A Howling Good Time](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11861466) by Feenie and [Bark at the Moon](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11973222/chapters/27078603) by me)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Tumblr request fic

“You should go,” Jonah said. “While you still can.”

“Are you crazy? I’m not leaving you here,” Max said. “What did you think I was going to say to that? Honestly, Jonah.”

“I’m serious,” Jonah said, catching Max’s hands in his. “You can– you can go up to the SOL. You’d be safe there.”

“Would I really though,” Max said. “Letting alone the fact that the bots think I’m a moron–”

“You’re not a moron.”

“ _I_ know I’m not a moron, they’re the ones who think it. And… what, you just want me to go up there and have faith that… that one of you isn’t going to kill the other one?”

“I’m not trying to kill her,” Jonah said. “But if I bite her– if it even works like that– then she’ll  _have_ to cure it.”

“But you’re not going to bite me,” Max said. “So why do I have to go?”

“Because  _she_  might bite you.”

“…so what?” Max said, lifting his chin defiantly. “Big deal. So we’d both be werewolves. It wouldn’t be the end of the world.”

“Max… please. You said yourself. She’d try to kill you.”

“You could keep me safe,” Max said. “You’re like twice her size.”

“The female of the species is more deadly than the male,” Jonah said. “And if I bite her and she  _doesn’t_  become a werewolf she’ll definitely hunt me down.”

“Then you’ll need me to slow her down.”

“No– look, stop. Come here.” Jonah pulled Max closer and looked down at him. “I’ll be fine. One way or another, I’ll be fine. But I’ll be more fine if I don’t have to worry about you at the same time I’m trying to pull this off.”

“But–”

“Max. Please. I’m desperate to get her to work on a cure. I’m… damaged. And if damaging her is the only way to get her to do it, I’ll do what I have to do. But you… you’re not past saving.” Max bit his lip to keep it from trembling as he looked up at Jonah, hands clutching the front of his jumpsuit.

“You really want me out of the way,” he said, and Jonah shook his head.

“Not out of the way. Safe. I want you safe. You’re not an obstruction, you’re… something that needs to be protected. Okay?”

“I’m not,” Max said. “I’m dispensable.”

“Not to me you aren’t,” Jonah said firmly. “You are absolutely indispensable to me. So please… let me do the only thing I can do to protect you and get you out of here tonight.” They stared at each other for a moment, and then Max sighed and dropped his head against Jonah’s chest.

“You really think this is necessary?”

“Yes.”

“Then… okay. I’ll do it.” 

“ _Thank you_ ,” Jonah sighed, and kissed the top of Max’s head. “Come on. You have to show me how to send you up.” 

“It’s easy,” Max said. “A Bonehead can do it.”

“And you have to show me how to get you back down again.”

“Slightly less easy,” Max said. “How long do we have before you change?”

“Maybe ten minutes. Maybe less. Come on, the sooner the better.”


	15. I wish we met before they convinced you life was war

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinga has a vacancy. This universe has an unattended Max. Easy peasy. Right? (Fusion with Rick and Morty)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Tumblr title request!

There was a beautiful redheaded woman leaning against the driver’s door of his car when he came out of the grocery store. He paused by the back of the car.

“Can I help you?”

“There’s an infinite number of realities,” she told him. “A billion billion universes, a billion billion versions of us.” His eyes widened and he glanced back at the grocery store, wondering if she was dangerous (possible-to-probable) and whether he could outrun her (unlikely).

“Okay, but… who are you?”

“I’m Kinga Forrester. And you’re TV’s Son of TV’s Frank.”

“What? I’m Max. Max Goldberg. Look, do you need me to call you a cab or something? You seem… confused.” She rolled her eyes and sighed deeply, then wrapped a thin hand around his wrist. Her nails were painted poison green.

“I’m not confused. God, what happened to the Kinga from this universe? You have no idea who you are in a cosmic sense, do you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, lady.”

“You, my portly pal, are a natural born second-banana. And I find myself with a vacancy for that position. How’d you like to see the multiverse?”

“Uh… I’ll pass, thanks,” Max said, “I don’t have the time for high-concept sci-fi hijinks in my life right now. My dad is expecting me home.”

“Max. Max, Max, Max.”

“What?”

“You don’t know what you’re saying no to,” she said. “One adventure. Just to try it on for size. Trust me, you’ll take to it like a duck to water.”

“You don’t take no for an answer, do you?”

“Never in my life and especially not from you,” she said brightly. “You’re necessary to my success.”

“I am?”

“Well,  _a_ Max. And you’re a Max.”

“Uh….”

“Come on, what’s the worst that could happen?” She grinned at him and the madness in her eyes was as plain as day.

“What happened to the last person in that position?”

“What?”

“You said you have a vacancy for the position. What happened to the last person?”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said dismissively. “It won’t happen again.”

“That doesn’t make me not worry about it!”

“Don’t you have any sense of adventure? I’m offering you an escape from the tedium of life as you know it!”

“My life isn’t that tedious though. I’m pretty happy with it.” She rolled her eyes again, and he sighed. “Look, do you need a ride somewhere? I can drop you off on my way home…”

“That’s such a Max thing to say,” she said, and he started to take a step back. “Ugh, fine, we’ll do this the hard way!” Her hand on his wrist tightened, nails digging into his skin, and she pulled… some sort of weird glowing device out of her pocket and shot it in front of them. It made a nauseatingly colored… portal?… and she grinned at him. “Trust me, you’re gonna love this,” she said, and yanked him forward through the portal.


	16. prompt: Doctor/companion AU (gen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doctor!Kinga picks up a new companion for a bit of interstellar jet-setting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feenie requested this one! I've been out of Who fandom since... jeez, since Amy and Rory left... but hey, if Thirteen's going to be a woman, she may as well be the ginger she's always wanted to be.

Okay, so she hadn’t exactly… set a destination point when she left the last place. Sometimes it was nice to leave it up to the TARDIS to choose where she went. She’d gone more interesting places that way, and this time she pulled the door open and peered out to find… the interior of a spaceship? A very small one, barely enough ceiling height to fit the TARDIS wedged in a corner of what appeared to be the cockpit of a one-man vessel. The man in question was in the pilot’s seat but was gaping at her as she walked out.

“Excuse me… you can’t park that here,” he said, and she bit back a laugh.

“I obviously can, as I already have. Whether you like it or not is on you.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he sighed. “Okay, who are you exactly?”

“That’s an excellent question,” she said, and didn’t answer it. He blinked at her expectantly, then rolled his eyes and sighed again.

“Okay… hi, I’m Jonah, do you have a name? Or a purpose? Or a reason for materializing inside my Backjack?”

“In reverse order… random chance, exploring and sometimes rescuing the universe, and…” She smiled. “I’m the Doctor.”

“Bullshit, the Doctor is male, according to all known sightings.”

“Not always,” she said brightly. “Just usually. It got boring. Now I’m doing this.”

“And what is it you’re doing?”

“Oh, you know. Adventures. Looking for them, having them, surviving them.” She walked over and leaned against the back of his pilot’s chair, looking at all his screens over his shoulder. This body was pretty great, but she wasn’t used to being so  _short_ , and he was very tall. “What’re you doing here, asteroid acquisition?”

“Yes,” he said. “A very important mission for Gizmonic Institute.”

“Been out here long?”

“Couple of months.”

“All by yourself? Sounds lonely.”

“Yes,” he said again. “But it’s the job.”

“Tell you what, Jonah.” She put a hand on his shoulder, and he looked back at her suspiciously. “I will get you back to your very important mission before anyone knows you’ve been gone. But I think you could do with stretching your legs and breathing some fresh air. Come with me, I promise I’ll bring you right back to this place and time after we’ve had some thrilling heroics.”

“…thrilling heroics does sound like fun,” he said slowly. She grinned at him.

“You deserve a weekend off after months alone in space, don’t you think?”

“Wait, wait a second. How long are you planning on keeping me?”

“We’ll figure that out,” she said. “No longer than you care to stay, I promise.”

“And you can bring me right back here?”

“Eh, give or take fifteen minutes or so. Don’t worry about the details, I swear I’ve got them covered.” She held out an arm toward the open door of the TARDIS. “What do you say?”

“I’ll regret it if I don’t,” he said, and stood up. Her eyes widened.

“You’re a tall stack of flapjacks, aren’t you? I know just where to bring you. Come on, this will be fun!” She herded him through the door and laughed at his gasp. “Yes, it’s bigger on the inside…”


End file.
